Expanded Realm
by mpregauthor
Summary: Years after the destruction of the Ring, the king of Gondor finds himself holding the son he and having his wife always yearned for. Yet nothing is happily ever after. MPREG, mentions of rape non-graphic , post-Quest. Non-slash.
1. The Beginning of Forever

**Expanded Realm **

**Summary:** Years after the destruction of the Ring, the king of Gondor finds himself holding the son he and having his wife always yearned for. Yet nothing is happily ever after. MPREG, mentions of rape (non-graphic), post-Quest.

**Author's Notes:** This idea's just been in my head for quite some time now. I hate to see such a good idea go to waste so I decided to go ahead and write it. Forgive me for the extended times between chapters. I'm an incredibly busy person, so the only time I ever have time to work on fanfiction is whenever I can't go to sleep or I'm not working on work, college work, art work, or other curricular activities. Forgive me.

Also forgive me for anything that could be out of context; any name or reference that is wrong or misplaced in the LOTR timeline. Yes, I've read the books and have seen the movies, but I can't remember all of what was placed in those books. I loved them though, I can tell you that much. That and the Simarillion. That was a GOOD one. I love the elves. Anyways, be prepared for an interesting tale. I'll also be adding some medical stuffs in here…so be prepped for that. MAYBE some gore. Hope you enjoy. Please read and review!

**Chapter 1: **

**The Beginning of Forever: A Peredhil's Birth**

It was a surprisingly quiet night. The only things heard were the scuffling of soft slippers against aged wood and cobblestone, a few quiet murmurs, and the guards at Gondor's gate shifting in their metal armor. It was only a few moments before the night's calmness was interrupted by the sound of pounding hooves.

The gates of Gondor opened for the horseman, and once the horseman entered under the soft light rays of the moonlight, most could see that he was obviously someone of great importance. He was riding a beautiful and majestic white horse, wearing white robes, holding a white and beautifully carved staff with a stone in the middle of it, and had long white hair and a white beard.

The horse carried a large satchel of unidentifiable items, some looking like large scrolls with tassels at the bottom, and others looking like smaller scrolls with multicolored wrappings. Although the satchel was rather large, and so was the rider, the horse seemed to have no difficulty in carrying both of them and was incredibly swift and graceful in carrying the heavy load.

Once the horse had made it past the secondary gates that lead to the courts, he hurried to the top of Gondor where the castle rested and where the king and queen were both accounted for.

The rider dismounted and was immediately greeted by an elf page who took one look at the great man robed in white and bowed. The elf took his horse to the stables and also took his satchel.

The rider was then greeted by two other elves, these with heavy brows and long brown, some of it tied back in braids. They spoke in hushed tones and guided him up the stairs in the direction of the Queen's bedchambers.

Once the rider arrived in the small sitting room outside the Queen's bedchambers, a loud woman's cry pierced the night. The others who were seated outside the room seemed to be nervous by this cry and the other whimpering cries that followed, but the rider who had appeared did not seem very worried at all.

A long golden haired elf approached the rider and greeted him in reverence. "Mithrandir, it's a great relief to see you here. Aragorn and Arwen give their gratitude."

"It's about time, Gandalf, you infuriating wizard!" the dwarf muttered to the rider. "If you hadn't of come, I'm almost sure Aragorn would've panicked."

Another cry echoed from inside the Queen's bedchambers and the blond-haired elf, dwarf, and the other little man sitting on the elvish couch, grimaced.

"How long has she been in this much pain?" Gandalf, the white wizard, asked. "Has she been this way for a while?"

"Yes," whispered a boyish looking man, otherwise known as a hobbit, sitting on the elvish couch farthest from the door. "She's been crying like this for the past two hours. Lord Elrond said she should've delivered the babe an hour ago. It's…good to see you, Gandalf."

"Frodo Baggins, you look like the dead. When did you arrive here in Gondor?" Gandalf asked.

Frodo's pale face turned towards Gandalf. "I got here about a day ago, but her pains became troubling only a few hours after I arrived. We've basically remained here since then." There was another shriek from the bedchamber, and Frodo grabbed his shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Your shoulder pains you. It is close to the anniversary of Weathertop, isn't it?" Gandalf remarked. "I should've known by the sickly look on your face. I assume that Lord Elrond will intend to keep you here until the anniversary has passed."

"I intend to leave before that, Gandalf. Lord Elrond has far too many things on his mind to worry about me. He has a grandchild to see to now, after all. I can take care of myself, Gandalf. I cannot remain a burden on him and his family."

"I know for a fact that you are _not _a burden, Frodo Baggins, and that your anniversary illness is something that cannot be helped nor controlled. It is only wise to have a Healer to help you through such times."

"It is not necessary, Gandalf. I am fine."

And almost as if on cue, another shriek pierced the night, this one accompanied by the yelling of Lord Elrond and Aragorn together. Frodo ground his teeth as his shoulder's pain intensified. Those in the room turned their heads towards the bedchamber door and waited for the sound they had been waiting for. Yet a babe did not cry out.

The bedchamber door flew open. Aragorn rushed out, small bundle in his arms, and shouted at Gandalf, "He's not _breathing!_ Gandalf, I need you to help him _breathe!_"

A tall and dark-haired elf rushed out behind him and said, "Gandalf, please, if there is anything you can do, _please do it._"

The dark-haired elf's brow was heavily furrowed and his face held a look of doom that seemed to dampen everyone's spirits and mood. This was not a good turn for the royal family of Gondor.

Gandalf quickly took the babe from Aragorn's arms and laid a hand on top of the child's forehead. He began to whisper in ancient elvish. He gradually grew louder and louder until his palm began to give off a faint white glow. The wizard carefully transferred the white glow from his palm to the babe's forehead, and before the wizard even had time to smile, the babe let out a weak cry which soon developed into a full blown howl.

"You did it, Gandalf, you did it!" cried Aragorn, almost bouncing with joy and happiness. The child was handed back to the King, and after the King kissed the babe's forehead, the King handed it to his father-in-law who held the child in an extremely gentle fashion, guaranteed to make any woman melt in pure affection.

"What shall his name be, Aragorn?" the Lord Elrond asked him and Aragorn thought for a moment before answering. "And yes, it is a boy." Everyone in the room smirked. Arwen's foresight had been her savior that fateful day she decided to stay away from the Undying Lands.

"I shall speak with Arwen about what she wishes to call the child. We haven't exactly picked out a name yet," Aragorn said, cradling the child. "But I would like to pick out something that shows both his elvish and his dunedain heritage."

"I do not know if Arwen is quite ready to speak about that type of thing yet. Chances are, she is very weak and is unable to speak at the moment. Let her rest for a while, and then you both may discuss his name. I believe the kingdom of Gondor can wait for a little bit longer."

"No," said a weak voice from the bedchamber. The voice was that of Arwen, and her voice was rough and ragged. Her screaming fits over the last long hours had worn her voice thin. "I want his name to be Estellin, son of Estel. It both combines both elvish and dunedain heritage, and he is named after you, my husband. Estellin is similar to Estel, family elvish names, is it not?"

"Even when you are more exhausted than this life itself, you still manage to amaze me. Elasandor is a perfect name," Aragorn said, his fingers trailing to the baby's small hand. The baby's hand was barely able to grip around Aragorn's thumb, and he let out a whimper as Aragorn rocked him from side to side.

The twins of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, helped Arwen lay back onto the pillows and wetted a towel to gently wipe the perspiration from her forehead. She finally seemed to fully relax and she soon gave into the darkness that kept threatening to come forth.

The Lord Elrond entered soon after she had fallen asleep to make sure that all was well.

"She is alright," he reassured Aragorn, who was quite content now that one stage of difficulty had been conquered. "She'll need to spend time recuperating, and will probably suffer from a mild to medium sense of post-partum depression. Though, I suspect you'll have my daughter back to her old self in no time."

"Thank you, Lord Elrond," Aragorn murmured. "I am grateful for such an ada-in-law."

The elf lord smirked. "And you should, for I will now be considered a 'grand-ada.' I do not feel like a 'grand-ada,' but I shall take the title to heart. Though, if you start cracking ancient elf jokes, I shall ask Gandalf to turn you into a toad."

Aragorn's face lit up with a smile, and he turned his attention to the babe in his arms. Estellin was tired from his little "escapade to Middle Earth," and decided to take a nap of his own.

"I'm sure your Grand-Ada would love to hold you, yes? Shh, shh."

Aragorn gently moved Estellin from his arms to the elf lord's and the babe let out a small whimper, but managed to keep quiet during the transfer.

"He has Arwen's eyes, but your nose. And of course he has her ears," Elrond said quietly. "I think it fits him. All the lasses of Gondor will be throwing themselves at him; I'm sure of it."

"I'd recommend you getting him circumcised, Aragorn. The poor lasses will be terrified of his manliness and be lovers of his elvish features and heritage. He'll be the top of the line beau," Gimli whispered.

Aragorn chuckled, and Elrond made a motion toward Arwen's bedchamber. "I think it's time you announce Estellin's arrival and name to the kingdom. I'll take him to his cradle."

The elf lord disappeared behind Arwen's bedchamber door, leaving Aragorn to sort out a suitable way to approach giving the news. He didn't want to yell it out; no, he was too tired to do so and doing that may just startle his currently weakened wife.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. "Gandalf, do you think you could-"

"-make the announcement through one of my fireworks?" the wizard finished for him. "I knew you would ask me this before I even got here. Thank goodness I have one of my many name spelling fireworks handy. I'll get that page who greeted me to give me my satchel and we shall have a name written in the sky before long. You, in the meantime, should prepare the trumpeters to sound celebration before I light them."

Aragorn smiled. He couldn't have asked for a better Maia either.

"Thanks Gandalf. I'll have them be ready."

Gandalf nodded happily, and left without another word towards the stables.

"And his name shall be called Estellin, son of Estel, also known as Aragorn, the King of Gondor," Aragorn murmured to himself, and he headed towards the terrace where the trumpeter guard was ready to give a sound of celebration on command.

Indeed, it was a time for celebration, and a command to celebrate was not even needed.

The fireworks erupted in the sky as soon as the trumpeters began, the name, "Estellin, son of the King, was born this night, born on October the 19th, in the great year of our King Aragorn and Queen Arwen."

Name spelling fireworks. Pfft. Gandalf had a custom made firework ready for this event, Aragorn was sure of it.

How that old Maia managed to see into the future farther than his own elf lord father was beyond him. He was not about to ask, but he was curious. What things did that old Maia see in the future for his son? Was it a happy future or a solemn future?

Aragorn knew it was rude to ask such things. But he still couldn't help but wonder what the future held for his one and only son, Estellin, half-elf star of Gondor.

**Author's Notes: **So, how did you like that? If you really liked that, comment and add to favorites. If you didn't , well, didn't your mother teach you if you had nothing good to say, it was better to say nothing at all? Hope you liked this first chappie of, "Expanded Realm."


	2. 17 Years Forward

**Expanded Realm**

* * *

**Summary:** Years after the destruction of the Ring, the king of Gondor finds himself holding the son he and having his wife always yearned for. Yet nothing is happily ever after. MPREG, mentions of rape (non-graphic), post-Quest.

**Author's Notes:** Hey everybody, I'm back. Sorry for the delay. I've been incredibly busy, so expect very strange update times. Sometimes a month, other times a week. Yes, I'm mean like that, but you can wait, can't you? There are plenty of other fanfics out there to read and many new categories to explore. Final Fantasy, Doctor Who, Star Wars, Harry Potter…just to name a few. So, uh, here's the next chapter. Hope you like it.

* * *

**Chapter 2: **

**17 Years Forward**

* * *

_Dear Estellin,_

_I write to you in honor of your 17__th__ birthday. I plan to come down for it, as I always do. And I plan to bring a nice present, like I __**hope**__ I always do. I know how much you've liked my fireworks and my magical items, but I don't think that I'll be giving them to you this year. No, you are too old for such toys. This is the year you will receive your very first hunter's bow. Not the training and hunting bow your father gave to you; no, this one is very special. _

_That is all I will tell you, for if I divulge too much, than I will have ruined your present for you, making my being here worthless. So, amuse an old wizard, and make sure you act surprised when I give it to you. After all, you'll not have the slightest clue when you'll need that bow to defend yourself. Though, I have forseen a time in the very near future where you'll need it most desperately. I cannot tell you exactly what happens, because I do not know. If I did, I would tell you._

_There is also something else I must warn you about. Mirkwood, yes, the elven land where your friend Prince Legolas resides, has been attacked. Legolas will not be able to come to your party; he has been summoned to buff up the land's outer defenses. His father is most worried. Dark elves have been lurking about in Mirkwood. They have been summoned by an elf self-proclaimed Anathema. Yes, he literally named himself curse. He has been trying to gain Prince Legolas's and King Thranduillion's kingdom for centuries, but he has failed every time. _

_Unfortunately, he is gathering strength, and this is possibly the worst they've seen Anathema's elven comrades. King Thranduil believes that they are powered by a demon of sorts. That is why this elf named himself curse. Unfortunately, there are those of Anathema's men called, "Disciples," and they are trying to gain followers, mainly potential followers that have power, such as yourself._

_Yes, I tell you this because I believe, to them, you are a living treasure. You are young and you are a prince of one of the most powerful regions in all Middle Earth. These "disciples," will gain their followers or supporters through whatever means necessary, except through bribery. They find that to be too easy of a way to gain a supporter and they find that it's too easy to lose them through bribery. _

_Thus, this means, they don't gain supporters through a large sum of money or through gold or jewels. No. They torture and tear down those they find to be potential supporters and then stop only if they are supported. Some smaller sub-leaders, in their desperation, have consented to supporting the group under Anathema. Yes, they are a terrible band of elves and they have been growing in numbers thanks to this new method of gaining allies._

_Whether this has to do with the vision that I had, I cannot say. Perhaps your Grand-Ada has seen something himself. After all, he does have the gift of foresight. Your mother has a small portion of that gift given to her. I wonder if you inherited it. Have you seen anything? If you have, let me know so I can have your Grand-Ada counsel you. He is a wise elf and knows how to properly use the gift. _

_I will be here just in time for your birthday party; no sooner no later. I am bringing one guest who has been dying to see you, but he will be departing back to Rivendell to be in your Grand-Ada's care directly after the party. Yes, it is the famed Ringbearer and I'm sure he would be glad to share more of his stories of adventure with you. Though, I ask you not to tire him out. The poor hobbit's been through enough all these years._

_Since I cannot give you any more information, I believe I shall end this letter on this note: be mindful of your surroundings and make sure you are safe. Use your elven gifts of swiftness and quietness that the Creator of Middle Earth has given you. Do not attack if you do not know what you are up against. Always keep towards the white light in the back hunting grounds of Gondor. Those are the only words of wisdom I can give you for now, regarding the disciples of Anathema. I do not wish to see you dead in the Halls of Mandos. Especially on your birthday._

_My Best Birthday Wishes,_

_Mithrandir_

That had been the gloomiest birthday letter Estellin had ever received. The other letters seemed to carry on mindlessly, sometimes even for pages on end, about the wonders of being 17, reminiscing about being 17 themselves, and how lucky he was to be able to have a wizard for a friend. For example, Legolas's birthday letter went a little something like this:

_Dear Estellin, Prince of Gondor,_

_I want to wish you a happy 17__th__ year! You are tall enough to match me in height now, or so says your father. I envy you. I was smaller as a 17__th__ year elf. I bet that the lasses in Gondor are just fawning over you, maybe even as we speak. You're quite the talk of Gondor, or so your mother tells me. Words of the wise; marry young but marry wise. The younger you marry, the better off you'll be with having heirs. The older you are, the harder it is to bring forth heirs._

_I did not just write this letter to give you lecture on marriage though. I am sorry, but I am not going to be able to make it to your 17__th__ birthday party. There are things I must attend to in my own land. Yet, I have not forgotten your birthday present; I have sent a special present to your father. He has assured me that he will give it to you on your birth date and not a moment sooner. _

_Make sure you write back and let me know what you think._

_May the Valar be with you,_

_Prince Legolas Green Leaf Thranduillion of Mirkwood_

His letter had been short, general, and less truthful than Gandalfs. Gimli, the dwarf's letter, had been ten times longer and Estellin did not have the heart to read it again. It was just far too long.

Yes, turning 17 didn't seem to come with any perks, except for being of proper marrying age. Tonight was his coming of age party and almost every girl in Gondor, pauper or lady, was coming in his honor. Princesses were also expected to arrive and Estellin was supposed to "entertain" them with the best of his abilities. His father had given him tips on how to woo a girl that he liked or how to "entertain" the lovely princesses and ladies that came.

He found these lessons and lectures to be as boring as his lessons in astronomy with Lord Dissidain, more commonly known as Lord "Disdain." He had to be the most boring scholar in the land. He was Estellin's personal tutor, and Estellin was not grateful. The man would recite books as if he was reading from them and he always spoke in pure monotone. There was never a time where Estellin heard him change his tone, even whenever reprimanding him.

Estellin had more pressing matters to attend to, however, and thinking of his scholar's boring ways was not one of them. He had to prepare for his birthday tonight, and it was only fair that he look the part of a prince. As of right now, he looked anything but.

His hair, fair as it was, was slightly wavy like his father's, but the dark color of his mother's. It was constantly getting tangled, and because it was early morning, it was even worse than normal. He was wearing his plain night robe; something he only wore to relax in whenever he was sleeping or ill, and he would change into more ornate outfits whenever the time called for it. Thankfully, he never gained any of the stubble his father was known for, but he was known for getting dirtier quicker than any other boy—no, scratch that, man—of his age.

Right now, he had apparently knocked over a goblet of water next to his bed, making it splash onto his night robe, making it completely drenched. His "disrobers" as he liked to call them, were used to this by now. This was simply the way the prince slept. He always tossed and turned in his sleep, and he moved so much that he would sometimes wake up the guards in the next room.

He sighed and put the goblet on the nightstand only to have a "disrober" lady run in along with her assistant. Speak of the devil. She took one look at his soaked night robe, clucked her tongue, and said, "I should have known. You won't even stop that for your birthday. But considering how energetic you are, I shouldn't be surprised. Amelia, take the goblet to the kitchens and his night robe to the washing maids. They should be able to save his robe before it gets mildewed."

Estellin let the maid pull off his night robe and he let the other maid help put his arms through the sleeves. He heard her mutter some mixed words but he mainly heard, "Doubtless he'll have grown out of these garments by next summer. Always growing, this one is."

He had to laugh; the maids were always playing the role of a third person conscious.

* * *

It was 8 o'clock by the time he made it down to the dining hall for breakfast, and his father and mother were waiting patiently for him at the table.

"It's about time you came down," his Father Aragorn said, pouring milk into his mother's goblet. "Didn't I say today was very important?"

Estellin grimaced and sat down. Not only did he not remember his father ever saying that, but he also forgot why it was important.

"Yes, you did," Estellin replied. The maids came out and put the eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and biscuits on the table. Next came the raspberry and strawberry jam and the apples and bananas. Then the sausages and sweet syrup. Everything looked exquisite; a perfect breakfast meal. Estellin loaded his plate with eggs, bacon, two biscuits, and a banana. He hated mushrooms.

"And why was today important?" his father asked, watching him carefully.

Estellin grimaced again. Today was not starting out well. Perhaps it would improve by tonight's party. "My birthday?"

Aragorn shook his head, chortling under his breath. Estellin scowled. He was obviously enjoying this torture.

"Not quite. Today's the day we go out hunting first…then it's time for your birthday party," Aragorn said, while taking a sausage from the large plate in the middle of the table.

Estellin could've hit himself in the head. Of course! Today was hunting day! And to think he had forgotten. It was a shame he had forgotten such a simple thing. For shame, for shame.

"And today, I shall give you a present from our dear friend Legolas," Aragorn said, and he motioned for one of the maids to bring him a large and long parcel. "He's not going to-"

"Make it," Aragorn finished for him. "I know. I'm sorry. Mirkwood's been having a bit of-"

"Trouble, I know," Estellin finished. "I'm glad about the present though. It was nice that he sent it anyway."

Aragorn smiled at his wife, who was at the right of him, and she smiled back. "He wouldn't forget something as precious as a birth date," Arwen, his mother said. "It's a very important day for the elves when they're young. Yet the older they get, the more it seems to dwindle in importance. So make sure you savor this birthday celebration. And, Legolas' present?"

Aragorn laughed. "Oh yes," he said. "I can't forget to give that to you."

He put the large and long parcel on the table and slid it across the grandiose table. Estellin made a grab for it, nearly missed, but caught it all the same. He looked at the parcel in surprise, feeling it's edges.

"I feel a bow in here!" exclaimed Estellin excited. "And a couple of arrows!"

He ripped open the packaging and grinned whenever his opened present was in sight. His face looked positively gleeful.

"It's beautiful!" Estellin said, looking at the bow's intricate elvish carvings. After more inspection, he said, "Wait, there's some elvish inscription on here."

He looked closer at it and realized, "It has my name on it!"

Aragorn smiled, his head tilted at an angle to look at the bow himself. "It is beautiful. It's obviously made by the elves, so it's quite exquisite. Anything made by the elves, especially bow and arrows, are extremely hard to come by."

"You're to write to Legolas tonight," Arwen told her son, a serious look that only his mother could give. She looked much like her father, the Lord Elrond. "He has been very generous."

"Of course, mother. I will," Estellin said. He took one more bite, swallowed, and then asked, "Can I test it out while we're hunting?"

Aragorn smiled. "I couldn't think of a better time."

He and his son got up from the table and were in the hills of Gondor's forest before you could spell T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

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**Author's Notes: **Sorry for the delay; I've been incredibly busy. PLEASE READ & REVIEW. It makes me happy. Flames will be for roasting marshmallows over.


	3. Cleaver, Weaver, and Dragon Seether

**Expanded Realm **

**Summary:** Years after the destruction of the Ring, the king of Gondor finds himself holding the son he and having his wife always yearned for. Yet nothing is happily ever after. MPREG, mentions of rape (non-graphic), post-Quest.

**Author's Notes:** I'm back again for a new chapter! Geez, I love this story. Have been for quite some time now. So happy that I actually have the ability to post it for you. So, here we go again for another part of Expanded Realm.

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**Chapter 3:**

**Cleaver, Weaver, and Dragon Seether

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**

It was a wonderful time had by all, especially by Estellin. The bow the Legolas had bestowed upon Estellin as a present was perfect. Its design was flawless; a perfect present for the son of the King. Aragorn, Estellin's father, and King of Gondor, had made special arrangements for this hunting trip. They were not to have any visitors or any guards with them at this time. Aragorn assured his wife, the Queen Arwen that they would be fine and any "foe" they might encounter would be swiftly dealt with.

She sighed and waved them off, but something was nagging her. The same thing that had nagged Mithrandir in his letter to Estellin, perhaps. Although she had found no evidence to make her worried, yet she still fretted over their hunting trips alone. This had been the umpteenth time they had been on an "alone" hunting trip, and it probably wouldn't be the last. It was their time to get away from the constant surveillance that had plagued Estellin since birth.

In order to remedy the time spent among the guards, they had their weekly "alone" hunting trip, which nearly lasted a full day.

So far Estellin had managed to hunt and kill four rabbits. His keen elvish blood had given him swift feet and a keen eye to small prey of that kind. They had not yet found a fox or large waterfowl the lived in the forest, but Estellin had had his fair share of animals of that sort caught previously. He was ready for anything.

But something smelled off with the rabbits they had caught. They seemed drained of all energy when Estellin had come upon them, and they hadn't been that hard to catch. It was rather disconcerting.

They're horses were becoming more exhausted as the day wore on, but Estellin and Aragorn were having too grand enough of a time to notice. It wasn't often that the horses got tired, but for some reason, they were now.

In fact, it seemed like the whole forest was tired and drained of energy, for many of the trees were dragging. Unfortunately, Estellin was only half elvish, and such gifts as "tree-reading," were foreign to him. Aragorn did not have this gift either.

"Why don't we take a break for today?" Aragorn asked his son after they had been riding for quite some time. "I'll cook our rabbits and we'll have lunch. As the hobbits used to call it; we'll have ourselves some 'coney stew.' It's supposed to be absolutely inviting. I've brought some herbs with me."

He pulled out of his satchel a small bottle of nothing but mouthwatering herbs. He also pulled out a small pot. "You skin them and put them over the fire. I'll boil some water over here." The satchel also contained a small wineskin in which they kept some water.

They often did this, and some of the time they would come back with nothing to show for their day of hunting except full bellies of freshly caught conies.

Aragorn began to boil some water and Estellin began to skin the rabbits. Their skins were nice to keep for the winter, and Estellin made a note to take them back home for stretching. Everything was going smoothly.

* * *

What a lovely day for a hunting trip.

The wind was nice and comfortable. It wasn't too cool, nor was it too warm. These were the most favorable conditions for hunting.

Yes, what a lovely day for a hunting trip. And little did they know, but something, or someone, was stirring not too far away from their current encampment. Little did they know, they would soon be in a lot of deep trouble.

The rabbits had been skinned, cleaned, and finally eaten. They were relatively small, but they tasted good. Aragorn licked his lips clean of the rabbit, and looked at his son who was now sprawled out on the ground. He was breathing heavily, and had his eyes partly closed.

"Full, Estellin?" Aragorn asked, looking at his son who was yawning widely. It was apparent that the stuffed feeling was making him drowsy.

"Yep," Estellin said softly, yawning and then stretching.

"Do you want to continue hunting? Or do you want to head back home?"

This was a loaded question and Estellin knew it. Aragorn would've wanted to have everyone home because Arwen would've wanted it. But truthfully, his father missed the old days of being a Ranger and prowling the forest lands spread across Middle Earth.

"I believe mother would want me home before dark," Estellin said, stretching again and then getting up on all fours. "So I believe we should start heading back."

"Oh, I don't think that will be necessary."

That was not the voice that belonged to Aragorn. In fact, this was not Estellin's father's voice at all.

No, it came from somewhere else.

Behind them, there was a group of three elves, staring longingly at them. "You have crossed paths with foes," said one. "We're a part of the Dark Elves in Mirkwood. I'm Cleaver," said the first.

"I'm Weaver," said the second.

"And I'm Dragon Seether," said the third. "We're the Disciples of Anathema. Cooperate with us, and no one will get hurt…very much."

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**Author's Notes:** I know, I know, it took me too long to actually get this posted, and now that it is posted, it's ridiculously short. College is wearing down on me, so hopefully you understand that. Just forgive me and read and REVIEW!


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